


All Is Merry and Bright

by 0hHeyThereBigBadWolf



Series: A Poem Lovely As A Tree [6]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gift Giving, I'm Writing Christmas Fluff In February, Jacob and His Flower Powers, M/M, That's right, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 23:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17887616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf/pseuds/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf
Summary: Jacob is a little nervous. Mainly because it's Christmas, and what is he giving Jenkins? A plant. Sure, it's amagicplant, but still. Ezekiel's more confident than he is, anyways.





	All Is Merry and Bright

"I can't decide if this counts as regifting or not," Ezekiel remarks, jumping up to sit cross-legged on the only empty corner of Jacob's desk. There's always at least one space on the desk that's clear so he can sit.

"If I gave him all of the plants, yes. But since I'm only giving him the one, no." Jacob doesn't look up from the snowdrop bulb that he's planted in a small clay pot; he's got his fingertips pressed to the soil, listening without his ears. Princess's snowdrop grew only in very cold temperatures. He doesn't want it to thaw out and get too warm, which would kill it. It's his Christmas gift to Jenkins, and the last thing he wants to do is accidentally give the Caretaker a dead plant.

Ezekiel leans forward a little to study the planter, which appears empty since the bulb hasn't sprouted. "Is it alright? The other ones have all bloomed already, haven't they?"

"Yes, they have. This one's a late bloomer. That's why I'm giving it to Jenkins. I don't want to try and dig up the ones that've already blossomed," Jacob answers, sitting back, satisfied that the bulb would live until tonight. He could always set it in the fridge if it got too warm, or pack a bit of snow on top. Gazing at the small clay pot, he chews the corner of his lip, a small crease forming between his brows. "Do you think he's gonna like it?"

"Jacob—"

"No, I'm serious, Jonesy. I mean, it's _Christmas_ , and I'm giving him a _plant."_

The thief leans forward and plants a kiss atop Jacob's head, rubbing his cheek against silky-soft curls that smell like ripe apples and honeysuckle. "Yes, love, he will. We both heard him tear Flynn a new one for using the last bit of extract he had, remember?" he asks and hears Jacob snicker at the memory.

Since princess's snowdrop is so hard to come by, it's almost priceless to the right buyer, especially since it's used to make highly potent magic. Flynn had used the last vial of snowdrop extract for some kind of experiment months ago, and Jenkins had nearly torn his head right off his shoulders. Jacob and Ezekiel had both been within earshot of the lab that day, and their ears hadn't stopped ringing for a half-hour afterwards.

"You're not just giving him a new sample, love, you're giving him a whole, living plant, and he can do whatever his little knightly heart pleases with it. He's gonna _love_ it. Dare I say he might even be so moved as to give you a hug," Ezekiel teases. "Besides, you gave _me_ a plant for our anniversary." A beautiful stand of pink heath and golden wattle; it's the only houseplant he's ever been invested in keeping alive.

"That's different, though," Jacob protests. "Do you remember what else I gave you for our anniversary? A blowjob. And sex. I know you liked the flowers, but if you hadn't, it wouldn't have mattered a whole lot once the handcuffs came out. And I really don't think _that_ particular bit of recourse is on the table for me and Jenkins."

Ezekiel snorts through his nose, clasping a hand tightly over his mouth to muffle his giggles. "That...is an excellent point," he manages to get out between snickers. "But he's gonna like it, I promise."

The historian makes a noncommittal noise, clearly not buying it just yet, then nudges Ezekiel. "What'd you get him?"

That reminds him of what he'd come here for in the first place. He digs in his jacket and pulls out his gift, presenting it with a flourish. "Ta-da. Finest firedrake-skin gloves on this side of a faerie gate," he announces. At first glance, the gloves almost look like they're made of burgundy-coloured leather. Closer study reveals the subtle pattern of scales and a faint iridescent shimmer. He could handle molten metal wearing these gloves and still feel comfortably cool. Perfect for a casual winter's day or working with highly acidic mixtures in a laboratory. "Do you think I should wrap these? Or put 'em in a box or something?" he asks.

Jacob contemplates it for a moment, then says, "I think if you just wrap it up in some coloured tissue paper and a bit of ribbon, it'll be fine."

He grabs a sheet of the coloured tissue paper that Jacob had been using to wrap his other gifts, and he carefully folds a few sheets of the thin paper around the gloves, using a shiny piece of silver ribbon to tie it up. "So…what'd you get me?"

Jacob laughs quietly, shaking his head. "Not telling," he answers and reaches up to tweak Ezekiel's ear playfully, making the thief duck his head away. "You're going to have to wait to open them with everyone else, just like a normal person." Ezekiel truly doesn't know what his gift is; he knows very well that Jacob is touchy about spoiling surprises and has learned to appreciate the suspense.

And he knows that it probably _kills_ the thief that he still hasn't found where Jacob hides the presents, too.

 

It's ten minutes past midnight when Ezekiel gets around to giving Jacob his present. The wine had come out hours ago, and there's three empty bottles on the table. Flynn's sprawled out on the sofa, drooling in Eve's lap; he shouldn't drink mulled wine. Or any alcohol. Ever. Cassandra's curled up under the thickly knit afghan that'd been her present from Jacob, already asleep, and Eve's nodding off as well, chin to her chest. He and Jacob are the only ones still mostly sober and awake, aside from Jenkins. "You like it?" he queries lightly after Jacob opens it.

"It's beautiful, Jonesy, I love it," Jacob says in an undertone, tilting his wrist to admire the hammered silver bracelet set with pieces of turquoise. He'd lost one of his old bracelets months ago to a very shrewd goblin in exchange for the location of a troll market in Dublin; the little grey bastard wouldn't take anything else. "The scrollwork on the edges is just lovely. Where'd you get it?" he asks.

"I'll take you there sometime." Ezekiel looks around the warm den where they had exchanged their gifts, the rest of the inebriated team and the scattering of brightly coloured papers, ribbons, and gifts. "Have you given the flower to the old man yet?" he asks.

Instead of answering, Jacob busies himself with his glass of wine, looking down into the drink as if it holds the translation to an ancient manuscript.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Jacob, would you just give him the damn dandelion?" he hisses under his breath, nudging Jacob in the ribs none-too-gently, and he throws the thief a half-hearted glare that's returned with an unimpressed look. Okay, yeah, he's stalling, fine.

Turning in his seat, he picks up the clay pot, sweating slightly in the warm air but still cold to the touch, and walks over to the caretaker. Jenkins is by the record player, stirring his glass of mulled wine with a cinnamon stick. Cassandra had somehow managed to get a top hat decorated with holly on his head, and he hasn't taken it off yet. It makes him look almost like a character in _A Christmas Carol._ Jacob approaches him hesitantly. "Mr. Jenkins?"

"Yes?"

"Merry Christmas," Jacob says, holding out the planter.

Jenkins takes the pot from him, looking somewhat puzzled at the lack of any kind of visible plant in it. Jacob thinks of greening and growth, leans forward, and blows softly over the snow-topped soil. The shoot pushes up through the snow, leaves unfurling and buds opening. The princess's snowdrop blossoms aren't truly white like normal snowdrops; they're opalescent, glittering with colour depending on how the light strikes the petals, and the leaves are almost completely transparent, edged with bright white, the stems a pale milky white with green streaks. The buds open and release a sweet, heady fragrance almost like the wine they're drinking.

"Mr. _Stone,"_ Jenkins exhales, eyes wide in shock as he stares at the precious little flower. "Where…where did you…? How…?"

Jacob smiles a little, tension easing out of him. "I figured since Flynn used the rest of the extract, you would want your own plant so you don't run out again," he explains, suddenly glad that he decided to give Jenkins the flower.

The knight turns and sets the flowerpot down gently on the table next to his wineglass, then steps forward and folds his long arms around Jacob in a hug. Jacob laughs, his voice muffled against the lapel of Jenkins's suit jacket, and hugs him back tightly before letting go and stepping back. "Thank you so very much, Mr. Stone, I can't even begin to tell you…" Jenkins picks up the pot again, smiling warmly. "I'll be right back. I'm going to go put this somewhere safe."

"Someplace away from Flynn?" Jacob adds.

The old man casts him a _look._ "If Mr. Carsen comes anywhere near this plant, rest assured I will show him exactly how skilled I am with a sword," he intones solemnly.

That pulls a laugh out of him as Jenkins leaves with his precious cargo. Once he was out of the room, Ezekiel sidles up to him and bumps his hip against Jacob's, leaning into his side with a smug 'I-told-you-so' smile playing at his lips. Jacob rolls his eyes, throwing an arm over the thief's shoulders. "Yeah, yeah, fine, you were right. He loved the flower, and he did give me a hug. Go ahead and rub it in if you want," he laughs.

"Wasn't going to say anything," Ezekiel lies, grinning broadly to belie his words. Jacob rolls his eyes again, and he chortles, leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek. They're usually not so public with their affection, not in the Library anyways, but since everyone's asleep and Jenkins is out of the room, they might as well be alone. "Well, Mr. Stone. What about my gift?"

Jacob gives him an innocent look. "Gift? What gift?"

 _"My_ gift, you wanker."

"Who says I got you a gift?"

Ezekiel pinches his side, earning an indignant yelp from him. "Cough it up, hippie."

"Oh, you mean this one?" Faking casualness, Jacob reaches in his pocket and takes out a slim rectangle wrapped in brightly coloured paper, handing it over.

With his usual air of smart-arseness, Ezekiel gives the package a shake, holding it to his ear for a listen; when Jacob elbows him, he unties the ribbon and tears off the paper, looking down at a hardcover copy of _Casino Royale_. He brushes his thumb across the cover, then rifles through the pages, smelling the familiar aroma that he can only describe as 'old book.' Peering at the typeface and jacketing, he can tell it's a first edition. "Thank you, love," he murmurs.

Jacob settles his warm arm around Ezekiel's waist, drawing him close and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. "Merry Christmas, Jonesy."

"Merry Christmas."


End file.
